


On the Making of a Disaster

by Jimcloud



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions, Wringlocke | A Pokemon Nuzlocke
Genre: Fluff, Gijinka, M/M, Nuzlocke Fanfiction, POV First Person, coffee shop AU, fluff for days, incredibly niche warning you now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 20:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17587430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimcloud/pseuds/Jimcloud
Summary: In a world with less gijinka battling, an older, more tired Leon recalls his first encounters with his friend the part-time tornado, Alamand. Could it be the blossoming of something beautiful? The framing narrative might be a hint there.





	On the Making of a Disaster

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [WRINGLOCKE: A Pokemon Crystal Nuzlocke](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/453182) by Umberoff. 



So you wanted to hear how I met Alamand? From me? Are you sure? He always tells it more, you know... fun? ...I mean, yeah, you would probably lose him halfway, you're right. But if you... no?

Okay, alright, if that's what you want. Let's see, uh... well, I guess I should start from the top. You know that thing they say... like, they always go on about how when you see "the one" you'll just... know. Everything will click in place for you like magic. Me, though?

Well, when he walked into the coffee shop I thought he was just another preppy college student here for a pick-me-up or a reason to get out of the dorm for a while.

...Oh, I should explain, yeah, let me back up a bit. Back when I was still in college, I had to make ends meet, you know? Help pay for tuition and what have you. There was a Starbucks hiring nearby, I couldn't find anything better, and there I was, working retail for the "brightest four years of my life". Like you do.

So then this guy walks up. Well, I say walks, that doesn't really do justice to his kind of... saunter. Alamand never _just_ walks anywhere. He puts his energy into everything. This wasn't any different. His student uniform tie was askew, and looked about ready to hang him if he was a second too quick at closing the shop door behind him. But no, he came in and his face lit up like a torch. Fitting, I guess, considering.

So he walks up to the register, and still smiling, he says, "oh hey, can I get a, uhhhhhhhhhhhh"

Yeah, that's Alamand. He forgot to think about what he was getting before he came up to order, from what he's told me, so he just sort of... sat there, holding that syllable for five seconds until it died in his throat. I just stood there, staring at his flushed face as his eyes scanned the menu with the unique passion of a man who has completely lost control of his life.

"Okay, so can I have an, uh, coffee?" He asked, his hand resting on his neck where sweat was beading. If I had a dollar for every time somebody asked me for "a coffee" while I was working at this god damn Starbucks, I would have enough money that I could... well.

It's the kind of money that would get you mugged walking down the wrong street.

"What kind of coffee would you like, sir?" I said back to him, with the ease of a man who has already died and is waiting for his body to figure it out.

His whole body jerked when he realized his error. "Oh! Oh, uh! I want a, uh..."

I'm saying this out and pausing so you can have one tiny fraction of an idea of what I felt then. I wasn't sure if I was ready to kill or to die, but I have never been more ready in my life. Like... don't get me wrong, I'm sure I've done this to people before, but also, I had no choice but to stand here and take it. It's not quite ideal.

Then he slammed one hand on the counter, leaned over it, and pointed up at the menu. "Okay! I'll take an expresso!"

Even then, I didn't think he needed an expresso, and with the fullness of time I can confirm that he did not and does never need an expresso. But I made it, and I rang up the bill for him.

But... before he took it, he stood there for a moment or two, shifting on his feet. I wasn't sure if he wanted something else, or what he was going for.

"Hey, so..." he started, and I just sorta looked at him until he continued, "I just wanted to say, I think your hair is cool. It reminds me of this guy from this band, uh-"

"Flash Fire?" I asked. Alamand likes to say that he's the one who said it, because it makes him feel a bit more secure in his ability to actually get sentences out, I assume, I don't know why else you would, but no, it was me. He nodded back.

"Yo, dude, that's like, my absolute favorite band! We should-" he stopped as the bell rang to his side and another customer filed into the shop.

He looked from them, to me, to his coffee, and back to me. "Anyways, yeah, I just wanted to say it looks good on you, uh, see you around!"

Then he picked up his coffee and ran out the door, probably really embarrassed. I know I would be.

...Wh-

N-no! No I am _not_ blushing. Ugh. You're the worst. Well, story's over, that's how we met, you can go home now.

...You wanted to know how we got together? How about you ask again later. I'll see if I can figure out the words for it.

You're sure you don't want to ask Alamand? Really? ...Well, if you insist.

**Author's Note:**

> Did this on a whim. I have some ideas to continue it, but that will also happen, most likely, on a whim. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this bitch. Leon is just... god. I love him.


End file.
